Page 64 of A Damsel for the Wounded Earl
It took some time to find him. Felicity avoided asking any of the servants to tell her where Lord Lanwood could be found. Somehow, it seemed like speaking aloud, or telling anyone of her intentions before she could talk to Arthur, would break the spell.
She found him in the library.
Arthur was sitting in the window seat, a book hanging unheeded from his hands. He was looking out of the window, lost in thought. When she cleared her throat, he jumped.
“Miss Thornhill,” he gasped, bouncing to his feet. “Apologies, I didn’t see you there. Did you want use of the library? Your father tells me you’re leaving today.”
“Perhaps,” Felicity murmured. “I have expected to see you in here with Miranda Sinclair. Are congratulations in order?”
He flushed. “What you saw earlier, Felicity – that is, Miss Thornhill, excuse me – wasn’t what it seemed. Miranda – Miss Sinclair – was entirely too forward. I’m sure she’d be obliged if you wouldn’t repeat what you saw to a living soul.”
“I won’t, of course,” Felicity murmured. “Do you have a few minutes to talk, Arthur? It’s important. We are leaving today, and frankly, I’m not sure what will happen to me when I go. Lucy said I could stay here, which means that this conversation is not a good idea. And yet, here I am, ready to talk.”
He tilted his head to one side, brow furrowed.
“You seem tense.”
“I am,” she admitted. “It’s been a long few days.”
“Are you feeling… feeling better? After the business with the chandelier, that is.”
She nodded. “Much better, thank you.”
He indicated a pair of armchairs, angled towards the empty fireplace, and they both took their seats.
A long silence prevailed. At the end of it, they both started talking at once.
“What I wanted to say…”
“Miss Sinclair is…”
They both stopped, smiling nervously.
“I am sorry Miss Thornhill. You may start first.”
“No, you.”
“I insist. Ladies’ first.”
“No, no, you. I’m the guest, after all. Please, Arthur.”
He seemed to flinch, just a little, when she used his name. Felicity knew it wasn’t proper to use his first name, but neither did she care.
“Miss Sinclair has left our home,” Arthur said finally. “She left about an hour ago.”
Felicity blinked. “Oh. I am surprised. I rather thought…”
“Thought what, that we were about to get engaged?”
She seemed to think that you were.”
He snorted. “Well, she was wrong. Miranda… Miranda behaved very badly. She behaved in a way that could destroy her reputation and affect her family for the worse. Of course, I would not say anything that would cause her so much trouble, but I’ve made it clear that she is not welcome at my home anymore.”
“The… the chandelier,” Felicity managed, her voice hushed. “Nobody could understand how it fell.”
His expression tightened. “I can prove nothing. But Miranda is not coming back to this house, not ever. An engagement is out of the question. To be frank, it was never an option at all. I would never have married Miranda Sinclair.”
“Oh,” she breathed. Her heart was hammering in her chest, like a flock of butterflies trying to get out. Arthur was watching her, almost breathlessly, waiting for her to speak. Waiting for something to happen.
